


Duels with Loss and Victory

by FreakCityPrincess



Series: A Vast Enough Galaxy [4]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Somebody Lives/ Not Everyone Dies, Angst and Feels, Angst with a (kind of) Happy Ending (?), Badass Rebelcaptain, Bodhi appreciation, Bodhi feels kind of protective of Jyn, Cassian Andor deserves all the happiness in the galaxy, Celebrations, Dancing, Denial of Feelings, F/M, Mutual Pining, Post- Battle of Endor, Remembrance, Salty K-2SO, Sharing a Bed, War victory, because space siblings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2018-12-15 06:57:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11800812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreakCityPrincess/pseuds/FreakCityPrincess
Summary: The Rebellion has struck a crushing blow and the Emperor is dead. After a single night of celebrating the end of the war on the horizon, the fleet makes haste from Endor in relentless pursual by those who do not think themselves defeated. Terror, restless nights, difficult questions about the near future and small but significant moments of peace will follow.The tide of the war is turning. As of now, there's nothing Jyn, Cassian or Bodhi can do to help.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **None of the works of these series are going to be posted in chronological order, and they're all part of the same Universe but very much standalone. This one takes place after the Endor victory in Part 3.**  
>  Enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the second Death Star exploded above the skies of Endor, the rebel forces left alive on the ground had a gut feeling that the war was coming to an end. 
> 
> It isn't the grand celebration of hope and beautiful victory that anybody dared to imagine in the back of their minds. 
> 
> Still, it isn't nothing, and for all their comrades not present today they will drink, dance and raise their hopes of the future.

Without the urgent whistles of swooping ships and traveling buzzes of blaster-fire, the forest moon at nighttime could almost pass as peaceful. Crickets chirped in the trees instead of warning beacons. Pints of planets and stars littered the sky in the place of emergency flares and bright red explosions and colliding ships like they had during the day. There were no activated ion canons. No dipping TIE fighters or walkers in the foliage. No Death Star. No Emperor.

Simple fires lit by rebel soldiers and the natives alike burned small and fierce, burned like hope, in spots on the ground below them. Groups of soldiers sat around and danced, drank, swapped stories and bumped fists. For all the world they would have looked like ordinary people, happy people, but one had to be from amongst them to note the bone-deep weariness that reeked from the stiff way they talked, the reluctant way they chugged their alcohol. None of these men or women had expected this day to come, and most of them didn't expect it to last.

To Jyn it was surreal. She had seen places of pristine beauty back in some long-lost life- the black sand, heady breeze, sprawling crop fields of Lah'mu- but this was a different kind of beauty; almost unnatural, even more unbelievable. Her perch on the treehouse deck beside Bodhi felt as unreal; too peaceful, no inevitable disaster close at hand. Ships had flown in with extra medical supplies and a handful of rebels who hadn't been part of the day's battle, willing to help. Or maybe wanting the too-rare chance to celebrate, who knew?

Bodhi shuffled warily at her side, looking in her peripheral vision as uneasy as a person who didn't believe he should be alive. Jyn knew; not a lot of pilots had survived the assault on the Death Star. 

Not a lot of pilots had survived the attack on Echo Base, either. Or the fateful mission on Scarif. 

In a gesture of comfort that had grown easier over the years, she reached a hand out to place over his. 

"You're a good man, Bodhi," she told him with conviction. "I'm glad you're here."

The pilot, to his credit, tried for a wobbly smile. "Yeah," was all he managed to get out. "I'm glad you're here too."

Companiable silence settled in between them. The ewoks' chatter grew, as did the noise of merrymaking and dancing and drinking from the forest clearing. Someone had got some music going. 

"Bodhi!" a voice called from a level on a tree not very far below them. They both searched with eyes prone to night-vision by now. Luke was signalling to them, on his way down the steps of his own borrowed tree house. "Lieutenant Erso. Join in, won't you?"

Jyn almost rolled her eyes. The kid managed to be _so damn cheerful_ all the time... 

"We should at least go talk to people, probably," mused Bodhi in agreement. Right. _And_ it was contagious.

"Probably," said Jyn, and made no effort to move. 

The pilot poked her intrusively in the arm. "Come on. It might...it might lift our spirits, while it lasts."

Jyn shrugged. "You go on. I'll just...wait till Cassian gets back, then I can probably negotiate my way into perimeter-duty."

Even Bodhi managed to look apalled at that- perimeter duty over resting your body and brain after a long day of fighting- but he made light of the words instead, smiling teasingly as he did. "Are you sure you aren't just trying to get Cassian alone?"

Jyn shot him an annoyed look, but he laughed outright at the response. He knew she wouldn't have punched him considering his injured state. 

"Come on, Jyn," the pilot said again, this time warmly in request, joking tone gone. "We don't have to talk to anyone you don't want to. Or drink, either, if you're not up to it."

She met his eyes for a moment and couldn't say no. It felt wrong, like she was robbing him of a chance to celebrate a victory long-desired, although most part of her knew that neither one of them was ready to celebrate anything just yet. 

"Alright," she said. Below their perch, rebels were taking to paring up for what looked like a dance. She gestured purposefully in that general direction. "But promise me talking is all I'm going to do."

###### 

Celebration didn't feel real, or natural, or safe at this juncture. The Emperor was dead, but that didn't mean the Empire was gone completely, didn't mean some new leadership couldn't present itself and continue what the Emperor started. And then Endor and all the lives lost over the years would go back to being meaningless, this victory gone as swift as the one after they'd blown up the first Death Star. Her gaze kept flickering up to the skies- stars, ordinary stars, she kept telling herself. There were only planets and stars up there. No battlestations. No fleet of Star Destroyers, though there soon could be. Still, she wasn't looking entirely out of place among the rejoicing rebels. Many sat on rocks and the forest floor, enjoying at least their meals. Jyn herself had been offered a can of compressed protein, but warm, and she currently devoured it with fervour.

Somebody- Kes Dameron? Antilles? A familiar face anyway- even passed her one of the moon's tropical fruits. Seeing everyone else dig into the same green lumps, she hadn't bothered to check for edibility beyond a sniff and focused her thoughts only on the food in her hands and the small fire that danced happily at her feet. 

Jyn suppressed a groan when Bodhi waltzed as happily towards her restless crouch on the smooth rock.

"I got some old Jedhan music going," he practically sang. Jyn hadn't seen him drink much- or at all?- and blamed this on his buddy Luke's cheery personality that she found annoying at the best of times. "Do you want to join us?"

"I already did join you."

With surprising speed, Bodhi snatched the half-finished can from her hand, positioned it somewhere beyond her immediate reach, and grabbed her hands, pulling her to her feet. "But you're being boring. Come on!"

Jyn blanched. " _No._ "

"Really boring," Bodhi corrected himself, throwing an arm around her shoulders to lead her more firmly in the direction of the revelry. Jyn tried to break off but found even his injured arm stubborn. She supposed she really shouldn't be surprised; the pilot was a long shot away from being like her or Cassian, but he'd also fought in the war, and he'd also had his training.

Everybody paused momentarily to look at her obviously unwilling approach, but Bodhi waved them off and they went back to turning their own dance partners. 

She froze. Oh. _Hell_. No. 

Bodhi was giving her his trademark big-eyed stare of pleading, which for all his stiffness even _Cassian_ couldn't refuse most of the time.

"You promised. Only talking to people."

"Everyone else has a dance partner," Bodhi said, not taking away his damn eyes. "Please, Jyn?"

She huffed irritably. "I'm going to punch you in the face the next time you pull that."

The pilot broke into a sly, satisfied grin. "I've been told I have nice eyes."

Jyn snorted. "No," she said in mock disbelief. "Who?"

With the pilot's slight blush she could very well guess who, and wondered why the hell the woman couldn't be here to dance with him instead. "Before the music finishes," he insisted without addressing the question, yanking her towards where everyone danced. "It's Jedhan. I'm good at this form."

Because she knew his faith and Jedhan roots were important to him, and because his city of upbringing had long since perished now, she settled for a minute smile and let him demonstrate his proficiency in its folk dance. 

Which, much to her amusement, she found was close to none. Bodhi kept a firm grip on her hands while he swayed them, highly suspicious that she would break off and leave, instructing her with how to move her feet in relation to his and where to keep stepping. For the most part she mirrored his moves- they weren't fluid, they weren't graceful but they were clear enough to follow- and listened for the harder beats of music that called for faster steps. The footwork was exhausting but not overly complicated, except at instances the pilot stumbled or shuffled, pretended he'd done it on purpose, and swiftly went back to comfortable steps. The music trilled, and he swung their arms, then it dropped and he hard-stepped to a side. The beat got faster and Jyn found her feet unable to keep up, but she laughed at his look of disappointment and broke free from his grip, clutching her jaw in a futile attempt to hide her chuckles. Giving her a look of an accepted challenge, Bodhi kept right on with his footwork, lasting a good thirty seconds before he stumbled gracelessly and fell into the arms she'd prepared for a catch. 

"You knew I was going to fall!" sniffed the pilot accusingly. 

"Okay," shrugged Jyn, and sidestepped to let go. 

"No, no, no!" yelped Bodhi before she even released her hold. "Okay! I appreciate it!"

They'd caught the stares of a few unoccupied rebels, and Jyn burst out laughing at how ridiculous her friend must have looked.

Bodhi struggled to his own two feet before glaring hard at her, but it didn't last long and he soon had to clutch his sides not to double over laughing. 

"You," he chortled weakly, leaning against her side for support. "Are wicked."

"You," Jyn pushed him off. "Can't dance."

"Let's try a different song," protested Bodhi as a slow tune, definitely not cultural, began to play over several chattering voices. "I'm sure I'm still better than you."

Jyn thought of refusing this one, but then she'd have to go back to solidarity and her own thoughts with only food and stars to keep her distracted. "Don't think I can't see what you're doing, by the way," she said as she accepted his hands. 

"What?" Bodhi frowned in question. 

Jyn held back an indignified snicker. "This is just practice to impress Corporal Nihta, isn't it?"

Bodhi coloured terribly, made an unconvincing snorting sound, started to lead the dance a little too early. 

"I'm allowed to just want to dance with my normal _friend_ , you know," he grumbled. 

"Don't deny it," she said with a triumphant hum, breaking their handhold to place her arms on his shoulders. "How are you going to hold her? Like that? It's no wonder you don't get anywhere."

Bodhi huffed. "You've got this whole thing _wrong-"_

"Look, I think that's Luke trying to put in a good word for you."

Bodhi spun around in alarm, only to have him yanked back by the hands. "Don't look," Jyn said exasperatedly. "You'll make it more obvious than it already is."

"You're stepping on my feet," muttered Bodhi. 

"Your feet aren't moving," objected Jyn, taking to leading the dance from him. He followed without protest, but kept trying to glance in Luke's direction without her noticing. Jyn would have laughed if she wasn't still trying to come to terms with how _normal_ all of this was- and involuntarily, her eyes flickered to the stars again. 

"It's gone, Jyn," Bodhi's voice came suddenly softly. "It's gone for good now."

Jyn squeezed her lips into a smile for his benefit. "I know," she said, trying to drift her mind into the music. 

Bodhi offered her an embrace and she accepted it with a gratitude that showed. "Galen would be so proud of how far you've come," he said gently, running a calloused hand down her hair, smoothing out the knots and frizzes that weren't supposed to be there, still caked with mud and grime from a hard day's battle. 

"And of you, too," Jyn patted his back lightly, feeling surprising tears pick at her eyes. She blinked them back before Bodhi could hold her at arm's length and examine her face.

"You okay?" he asked. 

Jyn conjured up a snort and shoved him a little without warning. "I'm fine. You know, the Corporal's going to give up and find another partner if you stick with me for too long."

The pilot couldn't keep that treacherous colour creeping into his cheeks again, but he swatted her arm unappreciatively and shook his head too quickly. "You're really messed up in the head, you know?"

Jyn pursed her lips, fighting back a small smirk. "Aren't we all?" she asked quietly, feeling the weight of her words only when she spoke. 

Bodhi made an indistinguishable noise of partial acknowledgement, but found something interesting in the distance above her shoulder. "Speaking of partners," he jutted his chin forward. 

Jyn whirled around to see, indeed, her many-times mission partner approach them, slightly favouring one leg as he walked. Anybody else he would've greeted with a stiff salute and immediate orders- them, though, he sacrificed the couple of muscles it took to smile warily, and clipped his sidearm casually to his belt. In the forest moon's chilly night, he'd taken to a standard-issue camouflage jacket rather than the blue parka that nobody else in the Alliance owned.

"Uneventful," he said of his perimeter-duty. "The other team tagged a couple of "troopers, but from what our trackers can see the rest of them, whom we largely outnumber, have moved away from this camp. Any Imperials left on this moon are either dead or fleeing." His eyes caught the briefest flicker of some faraway emotion, something he didn't allow himself to feel often, but it was gone before it registered. "They found a way to play music out loud," he commented with a dry smile, more to distract himself than anything else. "I'm impressed."

"You'll be more impressed that I got Jyn to dance," Bodhi revealed with a broad grin.

Cassian's eyebrows raised a fraction. "Are you serious?"

"I dance when I have to," Jyn reminded him with a scowl. 

"With the Sward alias, yes, but-" He waved a hand, smiling slightly. He was grappling with their current reality, this victory, this _celebration,_ under the surface. Distraction and diversion from the topic were most welcome, especially if they were going to talk about something normal for him, something he was used to. "You're difficult about it even then."

A comfortable, illusory silence settled in among them, soft music and tapping feet filling in place of coversation. 

For the most part Jyn observed Cassian, took in the sight of him; battered, bruised everywhere, a plethora of different colours. There was a faded red from the dried blood that still swept over his face, and black from ash and soot and burn. Brown and green breeches from the foliage he'd crawled in to get a shot at the enemy, a previously stained white shirt an entirely different colour of cream with yellow hues. She spared a glance in Bodhi's direction just in time- the pilot's eyes had flickered in the direction nine o'clock.

Grinning impossibly, she nudged his ribs harder than strictly necessary and offered her most indulgent smirk. The pilot groaned, coloured a brighter shade of red than the blood still darting his hands and neck, and sunk a fist weakly into her shoulder before making off in that general direction. She fell back next to Cassian to watch with a spy's discretion, and they both observed their friend feign casualness and call to Luke in greeting as if not even noticing the Corporal's presence.

"He's hopeless," commented Jyn absently, a fond lilt to her tone. 

Cassian murmured an agreement, only watching quietly as Bodhi proceeded to talk to Nihta, although Jyn couldn't quite hide her grimace at Luke's well-intended but entirely overdone input before the young jedi scooted off elsewhere.

The air was leaden with tension again, all too soon, a tension that tugged at their hearts and pounded in their ears like the apprehension before battle. 

There would be no more battles. 

Jyn coughed, cutting through the uneasy silence with what could only be a call for further disaster.

Inconspicuous, the music continued faintly. 

Cassian cleared his throat, the sensation bringing unexpected pain from a voicebox still hoarse from a day's, lifetime's, shouting in the field. "Dance?" he asked, leaving plenty of room for a no which he would have accepted easily, eagerly, even.

Despite the feeling of utter emptiness wrenching her gut, Jyn managed to quirk a corner of her mouth. "Bodhi didn't exactly have it easy, you know."

"I know," said Cassian simply. 

"Let's..." Jyn looked around, warily, guardedly, trying and failing to take in the sight of celebrating rebels. "Somewhere quieter. I don't..."

She trailed off, but the soldier of a lifetime didn't have to ask. "This way," he said, turning to make for the deeper parts of the temporary encampment. She followed without question. Anything to get away from this noise. This celebration that felt...impossible. 

The Empire's defeat that seemed impossible. The war's end that had all this time seemed impossible. 

She fell into stride beside him through the sparse settlement of canvas tents, weapons crates and docked craft. All residing personnel had apparently left for the main event happening in the clearing. She didn't blame them. She had waited for this day, too. 

Primitive fire torches made up for most of the light that illuminated the path of forest floor and provided a screen for the tangled shadows of tall trees. All other lighting was the work of the stars and the blue headlights of a singular cargo shuttle wedged uncomfortably between two pines.

They came to a stop in the headlights' cast, where crates of explosives were piled haphazardly over the other. 

Cassian wordlessly shifted a few risky boxes, lowering them to the ground with soft _thumps,_ and she offered no assistance because she knew her mission partner better than that. 

He let his frame slacken the slightest bit, sitting atop one of the crates touching the ground and bringing his knees towards him. He motioned for her to join in. She took the crate right beside him, allowing the wave of relief a comfortable seat finally brought her tired body. 

"How long are we going to..." she gestured vaguely. "Stay here? On Endor?"

"We leave at noon tomorrow," answered Cassian almost seamlessly, because these words of procedure were not foreign to him. "On a guess that's why the alcohol stock brought in isn't exactly sufficient. Can't have bad hangovers delaying our safe return." 

Despite herself Jyn laughed. "There's a reason Han calls you Major By-The-Book."

"Well," Cassian smiled humorlessly, not as annoyed by Solo's jab as he normally got. "That's pretty much all I know."

Back to the unspoken question. The doubts, and unfamiliarity, and fear of this victory that clung to them like polymerised skin, impermeable and suffocating, taking the breath from their lungs slowly and painfully.

"Breaking those rules is pretty much all _I_ know," Jyn touched her fingers to his hand, letting them try something like comfort for a while before hastily deflecting them. "At least you're good at what you do."

Cassian nodded imperceptibly. "And my partner deserves a lot of credit for that."

Jyn closed her eyes against the oncoming heartache, the reminder of everything that would change, and the sharply contrasting pleasant warmth that ran from the words through to the rest of her. 

"Do you think it's over?" she asked bluntly. 

"I'm sure I'll notice when it's gone," he looked skywards. "The war is all I've ever known."

"And the same goes for me," Jyn followed his gaze. "But knowing there's no more Death Star, no more Emperor, it's..." She searched for the word. "Elating. It's elating."

Cassian didn't say anything. 

"Is it wrong to think that way?" she asked, not believing it could be. 

"No," said Cassian at once. "No, we _have_ to think that way. Every one of us."

Jyn bent her elbows on her knees and rested her chin in her hands, exhaling a shaky breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. The music was a tinny sound from far away where the crowd gathered, less audible than the chirps of various native insects and nocturnal rodents, scurrying over the foliage and up the barks of trees. Endor was beautiful, she supposed, taken in the right context. Like so many other planets of the Empire's colony, it was driven to ruination by occupation and war. 

"So," she said, trying to sound calmer than she actually felt. "What now?"

Cassian averted his eyes from the shuttle's headlights, looking to the darkness awhile, and then back at her. He smiled self-deprecatingly. "That's my mental state at the moment summed up in three words."

Jyn scraped her fingers through her hair, combing out the mud and leaves and matted blood among the unwashed tresses. Why hadn't she showered yet? She figured she should, before the reminder of the gone war drove her utterly insane.

Try as she might to adapt to life without a war, she would never be entirely rid of the battlefield's filth, anyway. 

"I wish they were here," she said suddenly, unheeding of the words leaving her mouth. "Chirrut and Baze. And Serchill. Force, they should...they deserve to be here."

Cassian had grown quieter at the mention of their late comrades, more Jyn's comrades, because the survivors of Scarif had worked with her in a single unit while he continued his services in Intelligence, Jyn frequently joining him as a partner and him occasionally asking to play a part in their assignments. He'd been close, yes, to Chirrut and the others, but he'd kept his lifelong custom of detachment. Jyn, on the other hand, had taken this approach with less success. 

"They didn't die in vain," he touched her hand on the crate, gently rubbing in the rough and rugged skin at her knuckles. "Today we saw to that by winning the war."

Jyn dropped her eyes to where his fingers eased the tension in hers. She murmured a non-committal sound of agreement. 

"So what now?" she asked again, her grip on the crate's edge tightening.

"I don't have an answer to that," said Cassian, working against friction to remove her grip. He almost lifted her hand, meaning to press a kiss to her bloodied knuckles, but wordlessly dropped his fingers back over hers instead, the digits twitching in muted frustration. 

Jyn entirely disregarded this observation. Her head was pounding with realizations her mind couldn't yet digest, the end of the war and what that meant, the possibility of a life without it and what _that_ meant, so she didn't want more thoughts; she wanted talk, lighthearted talk, like every paradigm she'd grown used to hadn't suddenly collapsed in over her head. 

"How do you suppose Bodhi's getting along?" she asked, because it was easier to talk about a friend who was still alive. 

Cassian's ambiance of wariness changed, the corners of his lips twitching imperceptibly. "He doesn't really have to try."

Jyn peered at him curiously. "Why not?"

Cassian shrugged. "She's already interested. It's as much Shara's fault as it is Luke's. They've both painted him out to be a hero apparently."

Jyn could believe what she was hearing, but not that she was hearing it from _him_. " _You've_ been keeping track of gossip?"

Cassian rolled his eyes. "Kes Dameron," he supplied sufficiently. 

Jyn laughed for real. "He's really something else," she muttered, humour in her eyes. She pushed herself off the crate, turning to hold a hand out to him. He raised an eyebrow in question, but accepted presently, getting to his own feet after her. 

They stood in the white glow of headlights, over the picture painted by the shadows. The music from the gathering continued in the background.

Even in the relative darkness, Jyn found her gaze enraptured in Cassian's eyes because they were deep and unguarded, like they'd been in those paused moments before a decision and a leap, risky junctures in missions, when the fine line between life and death had emerged from the fire. But they had survived all that, and it was all over now; the only decision and leap left was what they would do without the war.

Cassian's eyes were ernest and burning. "Dance?" he asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

Despite herself Jyn found her lower lip wedged between her teeth, her gaze frozen in place. She dropped it to hover between his eyes, collar and open jacket. Battered, bruised and knocked around in every corner with bloodstains down the front of his shirt and a bloody edge to his lips, beautiful in a way that she couldn't comprehend.

She nodded simply, wordlessly, distancing their linked hands as was appropriate for one of the dances they'd had to put on as a cover before. Her free hand rested on his shoulder. Cassian kept his own free hand at a distance from her waist, question in his eyes. 

She smirked with an cool confidence she didn't feel. "You've had to do worse, Cassian."

Cassian smiled in a way that was undetectable to anyone but his frequent mission partner. His hand settled on her waist easily. 

They moved slowly in unison to the faint music, turning small circles around a spot, slowly, gradually losing interest in the tune and the dance steps initially practiced. Gradually starting to ignore the paradigm shift that had brought them this peaceful night on Endor.

"If I wasn't afraid of what's coming, I would..." Cassian started quietly. "I would be elated, too."

Agreement was beyond her. Not at this juncture, when she was so close to forgetting.

"This is what we fought for, isn't it?" she murmured. "Forget what's coming. We can forget for now."

Cassian smiled thinly, ironically. "And when we have to think about it tomorrow?"

"Then you can forget what happens now. Tonight," she sounded insistent and illogical to her own ears, but she wanted to forget. She wanted so badly to forget there was possibly a future waiting for them, out there somewhere within a short passage of time. 

"The war is," she paused a heartbeat. Forced it out. " _Over,_ Cassian."

Cassian dropped one hand and lifted the other, his hands coming up to hold the sides of her face, his forehead brushing up to hers, his lips...

He kissed her with sudden fervour and passion, his lips tasting like blood and oil and blasterburn, a strangled sound catching in his throat and buzzing at his fingertips.

When he pulled back his eyes were half-lidded, his breath was laboured and shuddering. He distanced himself, enough so that she could no longer feel the heat radiating from his skin, but his cracked fingers stayed where they were, calloused and frustrated at her cheeks. 

"Kriff, Jyn..." he muttered behind his teeth, searching her face with hopeful, and terrified, and regretting, and dispassionate eyes.

Letting it all go, letting worry and fear and terrible doubt leave her- surrendering herself to elation and the resulting rush of adrenaline- Jyn laughed, grabbing his own face in her hands and kissing him. 

She had never kissed him before, not in their five years as mission partners. He had infrequently let his feelings show, kissed her knuckles when they were to themselves and kissed her cheek when they wore certain aliases that required the display, but she had never...because none of those times had _ever_ been the end of the war. 

It was over. Putting their lives on the line, worrying for their comrades, for each other and Bodhi, weariness over possible discovery when mainatining an alias, it was _over._ The Empire that had taken so much away from them, it had _fallen._

Cassian's eyes were wide and uncertain when she pulled back, a look that was so alien to the spy's face that she laughed even more at it.

"This is what we fought for, isn't it?" she asked, breathless in a way that would have been embarrassing had she been in her right mind. Hoping that he wouldn't shatter this illusion of hers with the real issues they faced.

But Cassian's hands were at her at either sides of her jaw again, brushing her cheekbones and the dirt settled over them. "Yes," he managed to get out in a single difficult breath. "Yes, it is."

Jyn pressed her forehead to his and let that all sink in. Made him choose to believe it as well. That they could afford to celebrate, if only for a short while, if only until they left Endor to start picking up the Empire's remains.

Kriff, everyone else was being happy with this victory. Why couldn't they, having fought as tirelessly for the end of the war? 

"I wish they could be here," she admitted, resenting the crack in her voice. "Chirrut and...everyone else."

"I know," Cassian combed through her hair with gentle strokes, even more so than Bodhi's. Scraps of leaves, mud and dried, caked blood caught in his fingers, but he didn't stop. "Me too."

She was probably going to regret this display of carelessness when the day came and was very likely going to regret kissing him, but it was a fact that as for now the cause hadn't gone unfulfilled. 

Because in the end, in this fight that had so many times seemed impossible, the rebellion's willful soldiers, its tiny spark of hope and the _real_ legacy of Galen Erso had won out. 

###### 

Bodhi came back at a late hour, groggily scaling the steps hammered into the side of the tree to get to a comfortable floor to pass out on. He'd interacted with the other rebels a while, partaken in the toast to their fallen comrades, and searched without success for Jyn and Cassian. He made a dogged effort to secure himself in the tree house before the adrenaline wore off completely, leaving him disoriented and entirely conscious of the uncertain day waiting for them.

Reminding him again of the people lost in battle. 

When he finally reached, it was dark inside the wooden box courtesy of Endor's natives. Only the silhouettes of a low bunk constructed of planks and plant-based bedding, the figure that slept on it, and the camouflage sheets he'd sprawled on the floor earlier for himself. 

He made his very best effort to lighten his fatigued footfalls as he went up to the makeshift bed first, glancing in to be double sure that he was in the right treehouse, but paused when he noticed that Jyn's brows were creased, like struggling with a nightmare she couldn't wake up from. Nightmares weren't new to any of them. When Chirrut had been around, he'd offered effective words of comfort and Jyn had had a couple of peaceful nights, but now... 

Bodhi swiped a damp lock of hair back and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. The uncomfortable frown didn't leave her brow, but her breath did settle, and the corners of her mouth lost their strain. He liked to think it was an improvement. 

He fell back down to his camouflage-sheet bedding and pulled the canvas over his flightsuit. Like most other rebels, he hadn't changed out of the battle's clothing just yet. 

If the war was really going to end for good anytime soon, he desperately wished other people, braver people, were here with them to experience it. It was a cruel practice of fate, not letting you live to see the thing you fought so long for. 

Chirrut and Baze, lost in the stricken evacuation off Hoth. Serchill, outnumbered and killed by a squadron of stormtroopers on what was supposed to be a low-risk mission. The dozen pilots he'd worked with over the years, knowing few by name but all of them in passing, and... 

And what? Himself, Luke, Wedge and Shara were the only frontline pilots left after the three major battles to this day. 

Bodhi raised his eyes up and around to the roof, its patterns of tatching not visible in the dark, trying to banish the images of faces- known faces, recognized faces, faces he'd never see again or potentially even forget- when a sound of footsteps stopped at the door. 

"Sorry," said Cassian, stepping out of his boots before entering. "Didn't mean to startle you. You okay?"

Bodhi sighed, sitting up on his scratchy sheets. "I'm fine. Just a little...hungover, I guess."

Cassian didn't even bother looking doubtful, and went with it. "Jyn?"

Bodhi frowned just slightly, but the effect was pretty much lost in the cool darkness of their lent house. "I don't know how much she had. Thought she was with you the entire time."

"No," Cassian walked in without making a sound on the floorboards, a skill the pilot found eerie and supposed was essential in his line of work. He shrugged off his jacket and discarded it to the floor. Again without a sound. "She said she was getting back to the party. I suppose Solo asked her to dance."

Bodhi couldn't hide a tiny grin from finding its way to his features, but again, it was too dark for details. "You know there are more guys here than the two of us and Solo who'd like to dance with her. She probably kept clear of the party." Bodhi snagged Cassian's jacket- this time the blue parka, as stuffed and comfortable as it was- and put it under his head as a pillow. On missions where they all wound up together and having to rough out, himself and Jyn would often compete over their disgruntled friend's favourite jacket. "Besides, Solo has a serious thing for the Princess."

In that instant Bodhi wished there was enough of lighting to catch Cassian's shift in expression, but he did notice a sudden stiffness and that was satisfactory.

"No, he doesn't," Cassian refuted almost challengingly. Bodhi knew that, having been one of her handlers since they were both barely adults, his friend was the slightest bit protective of Leia and _especially_ unappreciative of men like Han Solo.

"You can't have missed it," Bodhi bit back a laugh. He welcomed this distraction from his chaotic thoughts.

"I didn't miss anything," muttered Cassian, but he sounded like he knew he was wrong. Forgoing all thoughts of Solo and his interests, he climbed into the makeshift bed beside Jyn, in an empty space that had conveniently formed at her side. 

Bodhi didn't say anything, but didn't look the other way, either. 

They were probably used to sharing sleeping spaces on missions. Well, all three of them were; Bodhi had an embarrassing tendency to spread his limbs out and kick aside the both of them, so he was usually requested to keep a distance in the first place.

He occasionally understood Cassian's brother-like protectiveness over Leia. Force, he could sometimes relate to it. After all, Jyn was to him the way Leia was to Cassian, and whether or not it was strictly necessary he felt obligated to watch her back.

Cassian either didn't notice him watching or didn't care. Sleep probably didn't come as instantly as he made it look, but Bodhi suppressed a sigh and went back to staring at the ceiling.

From tomorrow onwards, they were going to have to start rebuilding, rethinking their lives and purposes. Now that the war wasn't comsuming them, they would have to find something else. 

Cassian's jacket kept bristles of cold from forming at the back of his neck, and Jyn's tattered gloves, given to him a long time ago as a well-wish, had ensured throughout the day that no passing shrapnel or burst of fire had damaged the one natural hand he had left. 

When he'd been flying, firing difficult shots and avoiding himself being hit, at a point he'd started chanting one of Chirrut's verses.

Bodhi bundled the parka up under his head and wrapped his arms and the rough sheet around his flightsuit. A tired, and hopeful, entirely hopeful, smile found its way to his face. 

Yeah, it was going to be one mad run to pick up the pieces of the Empire and even more insane to get used to life without one single, driven purpose- but he felt, as he always felt, that his friends and the Force would be there to see him through. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Rebellion has struck a crushing blow and the Emperor is dead. After a single night of celebrating the end of the war on the horizon, the fleet makes haste from Endor in relentless pursual by those who do not think themselves defeated. Terror, restless nights, difficult questions about the near future and small but significant moments of peace will follow. 
> 
> The tide of the war is turning. As of now, there's nothing Jyn, Cassian or Bodhi can do to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excuse me. I finally listened to Cassian's official playlist and...I have more feelings for my beautiful rebel boy. He deserves every bit of happiness the galaxy can afford to give. 
> 
> There will be a _karking ton_ of angst before it, but he'll get to be happy, I promise.

They crashed into a wall of the tiny room, kisses turning feverish and hurried. 

"I have to-" Cassian created distance between them. "I have to go-"

" _Kriff_ your scouting run," growled Jyn, who'd reduced the gap again, and teased his sense of self-control with her breath just barely ghosting over his lips. "They have pilots to do that."

"They need _more-_ "

Jyn captured his lips again, and despite himself his immediate response was to whimper. 

" _I_ need more," she retorted.

He was wholly willing to surrender to that, and one more crash of her lips was all it took to erase the scouting run from his mind completely. 

They were on Endor, or something like it. It was nighttime and there was illumination from the moon outside as well as the tail-lights of Alliance ships. Red, white, yellow. Most of the planet was green and brown, largely hidden by the state of semi-darkness. 

"You're so good, Cassian," Jyn was saying while she trailed kisses down his neck. "You're so _good_ for me." 

Despite everything else and her hands at his hips, the words brought the moment to an abrupt halt. 

He was not a good person. 

He was not _good._

He didn't deserve anything the galaxy was giving him now, even though up until this moment the galaxy had only taken, and taken, and taken. 

He was in the snowy fields of Fest again. Fest had always been an ice planet- if a lot less frigid than Hoth - but this was the season of winter, and he could tell. The wind was harsher than usual. A blizzard rumbled from somewhere behind him. He could only see white and blue, and the fur from his hood was getting into his eyes.

Cassian took several stumbling steps in a direction he only instinctively knew was further from danger. Further from the blizzard. Further from... 

His left hand felt warm, suddenly. Like hot liquid of some sort was bubbling under it. 

Eyes widening, he jerked the hand out from under his jacket. It was completely bathed in blood of the brightest colour he'd ever seen.

He knew somehow that he was a child again. The soaked hand was smaller, fuller, and didn't have the rough edges or calloused lines that spoke of how years were spent more so than time itself. He had no solid skin under his nails. The blood burned on his hand. 

He lost his footing. He fell to the snow and it was cold, threatening, brutal like Hoth. There was even more blood on the crystallised plane of white, more than could've bled out when he'd broken his nose on impact. 

With wind biting at his cheeks and clawing at his face, the boy struggled to his knees and looked around. White snow. Red blood. In a symmetric pattern.

Around him, the Alliance starbird.

His eyes felt like ice-blocks, frozen in place so the tears wouldn't come. There was more wind. Howling in his ears and creeping up his ribcage. Sending shivers along his arms, his neck.

Cassian looked up, arms curled tightly around his body, trying and failing to keep out the cold. There were dark shapes standing in his line of vision. They cleared out, and he could see silhouettes. 

Faces from the six-year-old's future. Rebels. Dealers. Informants. People he'd trusted, relied on, betrayed or killed, among people who'd relied on him, trusted him, or tried to sell him out to the Empire. All he knew was that every one of those shared histories was tainted in with blood.

_You're a spy. This is a rebellion. You have a purpose with us._

He recognised the voice. Somehow, he recognised the voice...

_You're a spy. You'll have to do things you don't want to do. You're doing all of it for the cause._

_Get over it, Andor! You're no longer a child!_

Draven? General Draven?

The blizzard had caught up to him. White was flashing in his eyes. The blood on the snow had got carried with it. Violent swirls of red and white danced around him.

Snow and blood got in his eyes and he couldn't keep them dry anymore. This time, the tears came.

Something yanked sharp and fast at the back of his jacket, and he was pulled out of the blizzard. He was lying on solid ground again, but this time it was sand, and the sun was shining in his face.

An Imperial security droid was tending to his injuries. For a fleeting moment panic gripped at his heart, but then he remembered, realized, and started to breathe easy.

Kaytoo stopped what he was doing when he sat up. The droid's yellow-ring eyes bored into him distrustfully.

"You're a child," he said, brazenly.

Cassian wanted to speak, explain that he had no idea what was going on but that it was _him,_ he was a friend, but none of the words came to him. They died on his tongue, strangled, and tears threatened to spill again.

The hulking droid got to his feet, throwing a shadow over him, and pointed an all too familiar blaster. "I am not programmed to save you."

Then he was an adult and in a different place. His back ached, his shoulders were grazed and there was a blaster wound in his side, visible through his thin shirt. One ear rang incessantly.

Two figures stumbled out from behind a wall -the walls of a well-funded Imperial holding cell- with their own wounds and unsteady legs. They collapsed as soon as they were shoved inside, and he heard the click of a door locking behind them.

He approached the newcomers on cautious fours, breath heaving, not trusting himself to stand upright. Blood and sweat mingled in his mouth. His side contracted painfully.

One of the figures looked his way and heaved a sigh of relief. His face was a jarred, bloodied mess, eyes cracked open to a bare minimum, lip and forehead split. But Cassian managed to recognise Bodhi.

_What happened? Who did this to you?_

Tremors ran through his body, anger warping with fear and worry and nausea, making it difficult to choke out the words. 

The other person turned over on her side, facing him. Jyn. He recognised the symptoms of torture chemicals, he recognized what chatterjuice and fever mixtures did to a human sentient. Wide, bloodshot eyes. Sunken cheeks. Lips cracked to the point of bleeding, unimaginably pale. 

"Jyn," he said, inaudible, like a prayer.

Her eyes fluttered close.

Cassian didn't have the time to process this. A galaxy away, a cell door blasted inwards. Three figures stepped in through the lapping flames.

Bodhi was the one who scrambled to his knees and spoke. "Chirrut? Baze? Serchill?"

Cassian could only make out the sad, apologetic look on Chirrut's face- normally serene and unaffected, now framed by panic and failure- before half a garrison of 'troopers in flamesuits emerged behind them, blasters primed.

Suddenly they weren't in a cell anymore. Brilliant sunlight shone on his face, sand digged into his knees. The whole crew- no, more people, Leia was here, as were Sefla and Melshi and all the people who'd died on Scarif, and so was General Draven, and a dozen faces without names- surrounded. By the Empire. By 'troopers, walkers and officers in black uniforms. KX-series security droids stood methodically in between them.

A shadow crossed the sun, casting a cold darkness over the beach. He looked up knowing what he was going to see. Two Death Stars, larger than life, two prized investments of the Empire that they'd never blown out of the sky. 

Emperor Palpatine's voice drowned out the noise of sea, the satisfied chuckles of the officers and the screeching sensation in his ears. 

"After all you've done. All the damage you've wrecked and the imbalance you've brought to this galaxy. Your rebellion dies today."

"Empires don't last forever, Sith," spat Leia, and Cassian didn't know why, but the archaic term was fitting. 

But Leia wasn't in a position to talk, and neither was he. He wasn't one to put on a brave front on the off chance it would make death look heroic. Instead he schooled his features, left his resting spy face. Death he could accept.

He only couldn't deal with the Rebellion losing the war. 

Palpatine seemed to pause to consider which weapon he'd turn on them. He had two fucking Death Stars, after all. A difficult decision. 

"Cassian," Jyn was at his side, looking healthy again, defiant as usual, staring at the sky above like she did not see the power the Empire had at its disposal. "Cassian, I love you."

He jolted awake. 

The two-person cockpit was dark and a little chilly, red and green lights stationary on the dashboard console. One of the lights were blinking, though, and beeping faintly, about as perceptible as the disappearing traces of a dream. 

Cassian sat up in his seat, groaning. He blindly reached across and turned the axel all the way down, making the noise stop. That's unhealthy cabin pressure dealt with. He squinted at the viewport window. They'd come out of hyperspace, and it had been a while, by the looks of it.

"Oh, you're awake," came a familiar mechanical voice, and he turned around with half-scrunched up eyes.

"Were you piloting?" he asked, because he wouldn't put it past his droid to get 'bored' of sitting in front of controls that he didn't have to operate. 

Kay clanked over and took the pilot's seat. "I was not piloting. The ship was piloting itself. But if you're asking if I was seated in the pilot's chair while the ship piloted itself, then yes, I was seated here for the most part. How do you think we pulled out of hyperspace?"

Cassian pressed his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes. He could not deal with this now.

"Do we have the flagship's coordinates?"

Kay regarded him with eyes as judgemental as a droid's yellow orbs could look. "Are you fully awake yet?"

Why did he have to deal with this? 

" _Do we,_ Kay?"

"No," answered the droid primly. "As a matter of fact, we wouldn't be standing stationary in real space if the coordinates had been sent."

"You could've said that the first time," murmured Cassian, resisting the urge to roll his eyes as he zipped his jacket up for additional warmth. He forced his breaths to fan out evenly. A bad dream didn't leave him shaken for long.

Still-

_We're winning. Palpatine is dead. The Death Star is gone._

_The Empire is coming after us with everything they have._

He crossed his arms at his chest, sunk back into a half-reclining position. 

It wasn't real. The Death Star was gone. The Rebellion stood a better chance than it had in the past decade. 

Jyn hadn't said she loved him. 

"Scan for ships on our tail, Kay."

"Scanning. There is less than a five percent chance that we were followed by anyone through hyperspace, and a zero percent chance we were tracked through hyperspace."

_Cassian, I love you._

"Scan complete. No insigniated ships within a radius of fifty, and no ships of any kind within a radius of forty nine."

"Nice to know your statistical analysis is still as accurate as ever."

If he didn't know better, he could've sworn the droid _sniffed_. 

"My proficiency in the field I was programmed to specialise in will not decrease unless that particular function is overrun in a reprogramming, which you are obviously aware you did not do. Oh, the coordinates are coming in. Home I has added another layer of encryption."

Cassian sat up to reach for the dashboard keys. He entered in all six of the codes before the new one, which he had to thinking back to an earlier briefing to remember. The console beeped, and revealed a string of numbers that made sense from the jumble. 

"Would you like to take over?" asked Kay. "I believe you have doubts about my proficiency in things I am programmed to do."

Cassian allowed himself a quiet laugh, some of the pressure from his findings in the scouting run, some of the pressure from the nightmare, lifting off his shoulders at last.

"Take us home, Kay."


	3. Chapter 3

Early morning on Endor was much more pleasant without a battle raging in the skies and on the ground.

There were birdcalls that trilled from different directions, drifting down from the top of tall trees, and the occasional _yub yub_ of the planet's native inhabitants. A light chatter came from the ground below where a handful of rebels were awake and keeping themselves busy with the moving work. Crates of unused explosives and firearms were being hauled into light transports that would take them to the cruisers and freighters waiting over the planet's atmosphere. By noon they will have moved out, and they'd be fleeing the headless Empire until an opportunity to do more damage presented itself.

Bodhi thought he'd just enjoy the grainy caf in his hands and the fresh air of Endor's morning for now.

By the Force, it really was fresh and clean and it tasted like unpolluted water. The fumes of grenade smoke and blasterfire had dissolved to nothing. He couldn't quite wrap his head around any of it.

He looked back over his shoulder when he felt the floor of the small log cabin, wedged between the strong branches of a tree that touched the sky, dip slightly under his feet. Jyn emerged from inside, her hair tousled and shirt rumpled.

"Morning, sleepy-head," he said with a smile.

Jyn punched him in the shoulder but not hard enough for it to hurt.

"Why are you up so early? _How?_ "

Bodhi considered something like I don't know, just knew it was time, but he remembered that Jyn had enough experience not to believe that. He wasn't really a heavy sleeper (although he had been, in a life before Bor Gullet) but he was without a doubt a stubborn one. He clung onto sleep like he was being paid to. On the missions they'd run together, Bodhi had never once woken up of his own accord.

"I took Cassian's jacket to sleep on," he admitted. "And he needed it in the morning, so..."

Jyn's expression shifted to a scowl. "And why did he have to get up so damn early?"

Experience had not effectively taught Bodhi that joking around with Jyn first thing in the morning was a dangerous idea. His lips turned upwards in a toothy grin. "Why, missed your early morning cuddles?"

He managed to duck fast enough to avoid the fist that came swinging his way, but spilt half of his caf over the railing in the process and bit back a wince as someone from below yelled a Huttese curse at him.

Jyn repeated the Huttese phrase with passion before passively-aggressively setting her elbows on the wooden rail beside him.

"Slept well?" she mumbled, in a uniquely _Jyn_ way that sounded hostile and friendly at the same time.

"No, not really," Bodhi stared into the green before them. Several similar ewok huts were perched in the tall trees, a few occupied by fellow rebels who hadn't woken yet.

Jyn squeezed his hand, and the hostility from before was gone. "It never gets easier," she said, almost to herself.

"I never thought it would," he slipped his fingers between hers and held tight. His fingers still jittered, from time to time, a haunting reminder of a torture he'd been put through a lifetime ago. If Jyn found his metal digits painful, she didn't show it, firming her grip instead. "Hey," she said, with no small amount of authority in her voice, enough to make him look. "We're going to be alright. Okay?" 

He smiled a tired, half-convinced smile. But half-convinced was better than nothing, because not very long ago he wouldn't have believed it at all. 

"Okay," he said. 

###### 

The entirety of the Alliance body involved on Endor was packed onto Home I and another, smaller Mon Cala cruiser attached to it, leaving the forest moon behind before the location became a problem. Intelligence was already picking up Imperial transmissions, urgent calls and signals from one end of the galaxy to another, and news of response by an emergency fleet. The Emperor was dead and his Empire was throwing together everything it had left in a delayed attempt to crush out the rebellion. But the numbers were still uneven, and that made it too early to claim any kind of victory. 

The cruiser was following strict radio silence, cloaking its trajectory through space. Hiding, waiting for a right chance that may come sooner or later, the moment too precarious to really decide.

The pathfinders and the pilots had mixed, switching spots in their respectively assigned quarters to socialise (allowed, but not to the extent of creating disorder in the quarter system), drink (against regulations) and fraternize (most definitely against regulations). Jyn and Bodhi had found a shared quarters that mostly drank. 

They were more than alright with the alcohol going around. Even when they weren't partaking in any drinking, the general atmosphere of the room kept their minds off the war, the uncertain battles ahead, and Cassian's absence. 

Cassian had left with Kaytoo immediately after the morning meal with instructions to scout the perimeter for Home I. The cruiser's ongoing policy of radio silence meant he couldn't get back to them until it was safe enough to send out a line of encrypted coordinates.

Normally, a mundane task such as scouting wouldn't get anyone worked up, but the Empire was everywhere and looking for rebel ships, and there was no guarantee a single light freighter that couldn't prove its identity wouldn't be blown out of space. 

It was the fifth day after the battle of Endor when Jyn and Bodhi woke up in the company of three hungover rebels who refused to report for duty, and decided they'd request an extra round doing security to keep their minds occupied at night. Worry and boredom and restlessness were clawing at their walls and too much of time had passed. It was whatever that counted for evening in the artificial environment of the cruiser when a call from Kay came through. 

Restless and world-weary as she was, Jyn's first instinct was to panic. _Kay_ wouldn't call unless there was an emergency, unless his reprogrammer was being sent to medbay under a critical condition, or something unspeakable had happened, or there was an emergency- in her experience. 

Jyn was already striding fast in the direction of the medical wing with Bodhi hot on her heels when she answered her comm. 

"What happened?" she snapped into it, impatient, dread curling unpleasantly in her gut, hurried.

There was a moment of silence on the other end. 

"There is no emergency to speak of," answered Kay crisply, which forced Jyn to stop in her tracks. "Although the reasoning is acceptable, as eighty six percent of the times I have commed you in the past were emergency situations."

Jyn was conflicted between heaving a sigh of relief and laughing it off, and disconnecting the call before the droid got any more patronising. "So what's the problem?"

"There is no _problem_ ," said Kay, sounding as exasperated as any synthetic could. "I am calling to inform you that Cassian docked in Home I and is currently attending a confidential briefing. He asked me to inform you and Bodhi Rook. I assume you will tell him, on the sixty three percent chance he is not in your company right now."

Relief, then. It didn't escape Jyn's notice that Bodhi breathed a silent thanks to the Force once it sunk in that Cassian was alive and safe.

"Good to hear. Thanks, Kay."

"You're welcome," said the droid mechanically, because of course he didn't mean it. "I am also to inform you that, because Cassian was made aware of the disorderly situation with the barracks-assignment aboard this ship, he extends his invitation for the two of you to join his quarters. Although there is only one spare bunk."

Jyn met Bodhi's eye and a trace of the shit-eating grin he was holding back. 

She tried her best not to outwardly scowl, because that would give him the victory he craved. "Alright, Kay. Tell him to meet us when he can?"

The droid replied in acknowledgement before terminating the call. Jyn turned around to look at Bodhi who was still- curse him, he looked _so smug._

"What?" she quipped. 

The pilot shrugged, terribly feigning innocence. "You want to take the spare bunk?"

Jyn rolled her eyes. "We can make do with the same arrangement as Endor, you know. It's nothing new."

"About that," Bodhi tilted his head. "Do you guys do that often? Sleep in the same bed?"

Her cheeks were _not_ colouring. They were _not_. 

"We do if there's no other option. You know that."

"Cassian could've slept literally anywhere else that night."

Jyn huffed in irritation. "Like out in the open for Ewoks to step on?"

Bodhi pursed his lips in thought. She could see the cogwheels turning as he came up with something embarrassing and annoying in equal measures. Finally, his expression settled into a bright smile. 

"You know, I'm okay with the barracks. Means I have people to beat at sabacc. Wouldn't have to intrude on you, either."

She treated him to a scathing glare. "Force's sake."

Bodhi was starting to back away, grin growing wider by the moment, which meant he was conjuring up the most annoying retort yet, while getting out of range for any attack that could follow. 

This time round, Jyn only resigned herself to it and glowered. This she could see coming from a mile away.

Sure enough, when Bodhi's smirk couldn't grow any more pronounced, he delivered the final blow. 

"You two could have a _much_ better night if I'm not there."

###### 

Cassian didn't turn up at the cruiser's sparse common area- the one altered to vaguely resemble a mess hall- during the night meal as expected, but he did send K-2SO to inform them that there were discussions going on that he couldn't afford to skip. It wasn't worry for his safety that caused an uncomfortable silence to stretch throughout the meal. If there were discussions, _urgent_ talks with those in Command, it definitely didn't spell anything pleasant for them. The Empire was closing in. Soon enough, they'd return to the fight, and pray their victory on Endor wouldn't be wasted. 

Bodhi excused himself at one point, when called over to the table of a group of pilots. Not long ago Jyn would've felt uneasy being on her own in the company of so many rebels- but these were familiar faces by this point, and even if she didn't trust all of them, she knew there was no real danger aboard this cruiser. Nothing she couldn't handle, at least.

Bodhi hadn't returned by the time she finished her sparse meal, and she figured they'd see each other again in their shared barracks. He wouldn't worry unless she didn't turn up at night, and it wasn't like she had anywhere else to go. 

Home I's corridors were white and clean and well-lit; she knew that whoever who was put on cleaning duty did their job exceptionally well because little else could keep them distracted from the terrifying reality of having a half-won war to finish off, an all-or-nothing battle looming on the horizon. While many passed around the alcohol smuggled aboard to keep themselves kicking, it wasn't everyone's preferred strategy for distraction.

She passed only a handful of sentient lifeforms on her way, and three or more droids. The corridors were at a cool but not cold temperature level, originally designed for the natives of Mon Cala but stripped of its factory setting of dampness in order to sit well with everyone else. She wasn't entirely sure where she was going. The mess hall had been full of whispers and mumbled rumours about the Empire, about what their oppressors had in store of them, and she hadn't had the patience to listen to it. To let it crawl under her skin, get into her head. 

She stopped abruptly before a lit-up panel pointing in the direction of a few quarters, recognising one of the addresses. 

Well. There was probably no point, and it would create work for the maintenence staff if she picked a lock, but she was seeking distraction just as badly as the rest of them. 

Jyn turned into the corridor with the casual stride of someone who had every right to be there, giving the doors on either side cursory glances long enough to note their numbers. She'd turned around another passageway when she caught it, a shining colour of black against the star white background, and some small, irrational part of her screamed with relief.

She chided herself. There was absolutely no reason to celebrate. She'd already known he was alive and on-board. 

"I see you're standing guard," she greeted the droid, who swivelled his head from his immense height to look down at her. "The meeting's over?"

"Jyn Erso," intoned Kay, in a tone of voice that somehow greeted her and regretted her presence at the same time. "I was instructed just ten minute ago to locate you, and inform you that the meeting was called to a stop." He made a deep, wiry sound akin to a sigh. "Cassian seems to have relegated me to the role of messenger droid. An utter waste of my capabilities. I don't see why he doesn't just send you a message, now that the communication ban has been lifted."

Jyn tilted her head, and tried her damnest not to smile. It hadn't been a long time, but she'd missed this. He wasn't about to hear that from her, though. "Is he in?"

"He is," Kay paused, "getting dressed, I believe."

Jyn's traitorous mind supplied images that she immediately repressed. "And you didn't inform me about the meeting because you felt it was...beneath you?"

If Kay could've snorted, that's what he would've done then. "No. There would be no point, because Cassian is planning on joining you at the mess hall. I suppose the logical thing to do would be to inform him right now that you're here."

Jyn stepped back. "Go ahead, messenger droid."

Kay treated her to what could be interpreted as a glare before keying in the code to the door and standing in the small space it left when it clicked open.

"Jyn Erso is here to see you," she heard him say. "Not that she specified the purpose of her visit, but there is an eighty nine percent chance she is here to see you, or rather she intended to see you on the chance that you were present in the first place. It might be wise to reconsider your decision to visit her at the mess hall."

There was no verbal response for a moment, and Jyn actually considered the possibility of Kay toying with her, before she heard Cassian's voice say, "Let her in, Kay."

Kay sounded disapproving. "I have not yet scanned the mess hall or Jyn's barracks for contamination. She could be carrying an infection."

Jyn scowled and started to tell him to go fry his circuitry, but the door was pulled open forcibly from the inside as she saw Cassian pointedly motion his droid to step aside. 

Kay groused something along the lines of _don't come running to me when this backfires,_ but she didn't hear and didn't care, because Cassian was looking at her with a warm smile and like he'd been waiting a long, long time to see her again. 

She smiled toothily, though with none of the bite she had given Kay. "Hi."

He opened the door wider in invitation. 

"Let me scan her, at least," said Kay, ripping a hole through the tender moment. 

Jyn gritted her teeth and stepped around him to allow herself entrance. "Scan this," she said, treating him to an offensive Rylothian gesture, before Cassian rolled his eyes- at her or at the droid, or both, she couldn't tell- before closing the door behind them. 

She turned around in the dim lighting to take him in. 

Had he lost a few pounds or was that her imagination? Cassian looked unbearably worn out- and the crease that dug into the space between his brows had flattened, a little, but she could tell it had lingered a while before now, perhaps since the meeting, or his mission. His scruff had grown more pronounced, and only now she noticed the light to his fresher was on- he might have been about to clean up. His frame was thin, as usual, but none of the lean muscle underneath showed through the shirt he was wearing, and the hollows of his cheeks looked deeper than usual.

An important, probably confidential discussion had just happened, and he had seen enough during his perimeter sweep. Again she found herself trying hard not to think of the Empire, of the shadow falling over them, the war this cruiser couldn't drift away from forever. She wanted to ask...but she didn't want to know, and didn't think it was the kind of conversation he was keen for either. 

"You okay?" she asked instead. _Are you injured? Have you recovered from the things you witnessed?_

"I'm alright," Cassian leaned back against the door. "You? I heard there's been...disorder on-board." His lips twitched a fraction.

She made a helpless but unapologetic gesture. "Quartermaster is the most pissed I've ever seen him. Nobody's sleeping in their right place, and too many confiscated bottles have disappeared. Bodhi's having tremendous fun with a sabacc deck."

Cassian's eyes softened. "So you're both fine. Good. I thought things would just be chaotic, and funny if you're on the right side, but..that's good."

She watched him again as a comfortable silence settled. 

Kay would have made sure that he got something to eat, but it didn't look like he'd had much. There were dark circles around his eyes, the result of several sleepless nights. Again her eyes drifted down to this beard, to the blaster burn that had started to fade under his chin. 

Cassian shifted slightly, and it occurred to her that she'd been staring. She forced her eyes back up, refusing to look embarrassed. 

They hadn't talked about their kiss on Endor. Force, _she_ had been the one to kiss him, and it had felt so right and safe in that moment, and it probably still would if she tried again, but...

Did he blame it on the alcohol she'd had? He had known, of course, that she wasn't drunk. He would've never pressed her if he thought as much. Still, he always seemed to have a hard time believing that something wasn't his fault, and after she'd excused herself to grab another drink from the ongoing celebrations, he would've thought it a clear message that she didn't want their...whatever it was to continue. And proceeded to blame himself.

She refused to be embarrassed about her concern, for her need to look him over and see if he was alright. However, memories of _that night_ kept floating back, and her ears grew hot as she remembered the kisses they'd shared after the first one, with her practically sitting in his lap at one point and his hands roaming wherever they could reach. 

Cassian was apparently thinking of the same thing. 

"We don't have to," he managed to meet her eyes. Sincere, honest. "Talk about it, that is. We can...leave it behind. Forget it ever happened, if that's what you want."

_If that's what you want._

The words were out before she knew it.

"And you?"

He shifted again, although his face betrayed no discomfort. How could he _do_ that? Spies and their kriffing tricks.

"I think you have a pretty good idea of what I want, Jyn."

She pressed her lips tightly together, allowing only a bit of a humourless smile to show. "Democracy?" she joked.

Cassian mercifully let it slide, and changed the topic entirely. "We're entering another hyperspace lane tomorrow. There's a rendezvous, an unnamed moon, where there are backup fighters waiting for us."

Her world tilted on its axis before she registered the words. "So soon?"

He shook his head. "It's in the furthest reaches of the Outer Rim, territory the Empire hasn't charted yet. By my estimate it should take about two weeks to get there, and we're only going to launch an offensive once we've signed up more allies."

_More allies._ There was unsaid good news here and it wasn't going to be very soon, but the course would be set for a future without the Empire- or the Rebellion- soon enough. 

Everything they'd been fighting for. A decisive moment that would either make every sacrifice worthwhile, or render countless rebel deaths ultimately useless. 

Her gut twisted in a knot. 

_Chirrut. Baze. Serchill._

Very soon, she'd be fighting the decisive battle for them.

She was buzzing with nervous energy and vengeful anger and doubt and fear all at once.

_One last stand,_ were the words nobody said out loud. 

She needed to hit something. Spar. Yell at someone. Too much of energy and anticipation screamed in her veins and her bones, demanding to be let out.

"Jyn," said Cassian softly, sensing it, a gentle warning.

He didn't have time to react before her lips crashed into his, her fingers gripping roughly at the hollows of his cheeks, her body pinning him against the door. Her heartbeat was raw and untamed in her chest, and doubt... _crushing_ doubt, a terrible _what if_ weighed down her shoulders.

What if they lost? What if the sacrifices weren't worth it? 

She translated every question and every terrible answer into the kiss, pushing roughly, biting his lips, and deepening it when fueled by his muffled groan. She tasted teeth and tongue before she caught the faint metallic tang of blood, and then that as well. He tried hard to keep up- or to hold back, submit to her control, but she found she didn't care which it was. 

Cassian managed to break the kiss despite the lack of space given to him. He was pacing his own breaths as he moved her hands from his cheeks- shifting them to his shoulders- and adjusted to hold her own face. She must have looked feral- panting heavily, her emotions strewn everywhere- but he rested his forehead to hers gently and closed his eyes. 

"We have a chance," he breathed. She listened, because she knew he didn't sugarcoat or make false promises. If Cassian was making an assurance, she had to listen. "We have a chance, Jyn."

Force knew how she managed to find her voice, or hear his words over the sound of her pulse in her ears.

"Small chance?"

He carefully brushed a strand of hair from her face. "Not so bad."

She dropped her head to his shoulder and took in a shuddering breath. Breathed in and out. In and out. Felt her spiked heartrate come down to normal levels.

Screwed her eyes shut and swore. 

"Jyn?"

She pushed away, taking a stumbling step back from him. Pinched the bridge of her nose and swore viciously. 

_What have I done?_

She opened her eyes without meaning to, caught a glimpse of him when it was everything she was trying to prevent. 

Cassian was looking concerned, like he was about reach out and say something to put her nerves at ease, but his appearance served as a painful reminder of the _new_ reason for those nerves. 

His hair was a mess from her fingers clawing through it. There was a fresh smear of blood on his lower lip, and his...Force, she'd even crumpled his collar, pulled apart the velcro straps keeping it in place. 

She took several halting steps back. 

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, unable to tear her gaze away now. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to-"

He reached out. "You don't have to-"

"Kriff." She stared at him even as she darted to a side, her back hitting the door solidly. "I-I kriffed up, Cassian, I didn't mean to-"

He shook his head too fast. "You didn't. You don't have to apologise, I...I really don't mind."

She reached behind her back, found the door release. "I'm sorry."

"Don't. I'm here if you need something-"

"No. No, that's not okay," she shook her head, hurriedly feeling for the...the lock clicked open, and she was out before she could open the door fully. She ignored Kay's calculating look, brushing past him in a hurry, and breaking into a run to turn around the corridor before the door opened again. 

###### 

Bodhi woke up grumbling about a pebble that had somehow found its way into his sock, and once she had bemusedly pulled the offending sock off (he hadn't been willing to budge, and in turn run the risk of waking up fully), he'd switched to grumbling about how cold it had been in the night.

"I mean, can you imagine?" Bodhi had mumbled into his pillow. "That kriffing pebble _and_ the cold? It was such a crappy night."

"Physical evaluation at 0600," reminded Jyn, knowing it wasn't a good enough reason. 

Bodhi pulled the thin sheet all the way over his head. "Go away."

"Bodhi."

"I'll come later."

Jyn sighed. "You'll miss breakfast as well."

The pilot grumbled something unintelligible, the sound barely reaching her ears. He curled in tighter around himself and started trying hard to fall back asleep. Jyn decided to leave him at it.

The common area being used as a mess hall was on a low light setting, giving it the feel of early morning hours in sparingly lit indoors. It was starting to crowd up. Ground officers fought over the only three caf machines and pilots flocked together in large groups, giddy and noisy before the day even began. It was like this in the mornings; the common areas swarmed with life and spirit, people had work to do and duties to report for, everyone had a plan in mind. But once a day-cycle was reaching its end, when people started gathering for a less-than-grandiose dinner and bed, the noise and the friendly greetings faded into an endless background chatter of rumours, whispers and fears, about the war, and the enemy closing in on them.

She swallowed a lump in her throat. They were all affected. It was, after all, the reason she'd gone and done what she'd done.

The rhodian standing in line beside her treated her to a puzzled look when she pinched the bridge of her nose.

_Kriffing great._

She didn't even register the colour of the mush she served, grabbing her tray and looking around the hall for an empty corner. 

Her heart dropped to her stomach. 

The corner she usually shared with Bodhi had been filled in, and she wasn't about to go sit at the pilots' table without him. Han Solo was entertaining Kes Dameron's Pathfinders, and the mess was _loud._ There were only a few free spots that she could make out. An empty seat next to a Gammorean. A row that sat before a senior officer. An empty corner, save for...

Was the Force playing some sort of joke on her? _This_ had to happen, and on the day Bodhi was unavailable, too?

Jyn forced herself to take steadying breaths, bracing herself for a confrontation that she deserved. She could keep avoiding him for as long as they were aboard this cruiser with few hiding places, or she could apologise right now, soon enough to count, and swear it would never happen again.

And if he didn't want to see her now, she would get the message.

Cassian didn't look up until she dropped her tray before him. 

"Got a minute?" she asked in an unfortunately strained voice. 

He blinked, as if surprised from blank thoughts or absent thinking- which wasn't possible, he didn't _do_ absent thinking- before his expression schooled itself and he said, as professionally as though this was going to be an everyday conversation between two peers, "Go ahead."

She sat down and didn't look at him. Not for all of sixty seconds. 

And then because Jyn wasn't used to circling around an issue or softening a blow first, she followed habit and barreled straight through the bantha in the room.

"I wasn't thinking clearly last night."

Cassian looked from his tray, but his expression revealed nothing. She tried not to wince, and continued regardless in the most matter-of-fact voice she could muster.

"Everything that's happening right now, it's a lot to take in. I was just...annoyed with all of it. I shouldn't have projected that on to you. It was stupid and selfish of me. So." She straightened in her seat. "I'm sorry. Can we forget it ever happened?"

Cassian didn't say anything or change his expression for the longest while, during which time she slowly started to regret this course of action, and come up with excuses to talk her way out of...this. Come back later better prepared. Start the apology all over again. 

And then he shrugged his shoulders.

"If that's what you want."

She frowned, minutely. Hadn't he said the same thing earlier? And a neutral reaction was not a good reaction. She didn't want...she didn't want them to be on bad terms, she wanted _him_ to readily forget it even if he couldn't forgive her, but she had to do much better than a neutral reaction.

"And that isn't what _you_ want?"

Cassian looked a dangerous kind of calm, non-threatening yet somehow ominous in a way that did not spell good news. "What do you think?"

If she was caught completely off guard by the question, she refused to show it.

"I damn hear hurt you."

"I wonder why you think that I mind."

Jyn shook her head. "No. No, this doesn't- look, that's not what I- _Cassian._ I did something stupid, a mistake, and I don't want it making things hostile between us. It was stupid and I'm sorry. What would it take...what do I have to do?"

The mess hall was loud enough to drown out their voices so the nearest table wouldn't hear, but their private space seemed to have gone eerily quiet. 

"Was that all it was?" asked Cassian plainly. "A stupid mistake?"

She sputtered. "Yeah, well- _obviously._ I wouldn't just...I wouldn't just _assault_ you on purpose, I wasn't thinking right."

He straightened conclusively. "I see."

Something in his voice hinted that this was about as far as he was willing to discuss, and the floor was closed for anything else. But she didn't like it. The _I see_ sounded too final, and not in the way she'd hoped.

"Is there something bothering you?" she blurted. "I mean. Other than...other than that, of course."

He looked up at her and then back down at his food without comment. She got the message. 

They didn't talk while they each finished the food in front of them. The silence felt uncomfortable, enough to make her restless and fidgety, but Cassian didn't give anything away. The quiet coming from him would seem friendly were it not for the circumstances.

He was going to say something- and when he held her gaze, she could see that there was no anger in his eyes, only...resignation, although she couldn't tell why, and it looked like he'd already forgiven her and was about to say so, but another tray plunked down beside hers and the moment was gone. 

"'Mornin'," mumbled Bodhi, who barely avoided dropping his face into the mush when he sat. "I don't want to be here. Lence kicked me out of the room. Hi, Cass."

And then Cassian looked as if he'd completely forgotten their conversation just now. 

"Bad night?"

Bodhi dragged his palm across his face and groaned as though hungover. "The worst. There was this kriffing pebble in my sock, and it was _so cold._ "

"That must've been a nuisance."

"You have no idea." Bodhi looked at him through bleary eyes. "What about you? Heard you've been busy since you got back."

Cassian shrugged. "It's routine, really. The summons weren't special, they just needed a report."

Bodhi, like Jyn, knew him well enough to figure that that was probably a cover story, but in his sleep-deprived state took it at face value. 

"Good to hear." He considered the food before him. "I'm going to go get a cup of caf. Make sure my food doesn't get stolen."

Jyn expected Cassian to say whatever he'd been about to say just as soon as Bodhi was out of earshot, but Cassian graciously slid a full cup of caf across the table instead.

"Save your time. It's a big crowd over there."

Despite his semi-conscious state Bodhi grinned broadly and grabbed it up. "Force, you're a lifesaver! Thanks!"

Cassian smiled wryly. "Don't mention it."

Jyn closed her eyes and held back a frustrated sigh. She _had_ to know, preferably soon, but they could hardly talk about it with Bodhi present. It would bother her peace of mind for the rest of the day, and when she eventually did get Cassian alone...then what? Would his patience have run out? Would he still be willing to listen? 

"Barracks are a mess," Bodhi was talking animatedly now that he'd had his first two shots of caf. "I mean, ours are okay, but sometimes they switch with other people without any warning and _those_ people are always drunk or good at snoring."

"How rotten."

"It sucked," agreed Bodhi, after another gulp. "But we have a solution now, yeah?"

Jyn had to split her attention between Cassian's expression, looking for a sign that would give him away- and Bodhi's wide shit-eating grin. 

"I call dibs on the spare bunk," he declared, and she had to fight back the urge to hit him. 

But if Cassian found the obvious implication distasteful, he didn't show it. "Okay."

Bodhi tried and failed to hide his smirk behind the rim of his cup. Cassian raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. Jyn wanted to bury her face in the table, but it would be undignified, and so she only sat straight refusing to give the pilot the satisfaction of her irritation. 

Bodhi seemed to do most of the talking for the rest of the meal, though. 

###### 

"Whatcha standin' around looking prissy for? Are you soldiers or prissy princesses?"

If the recruits in the room strived to continue their exercises, it was because of Kes Dameron's yelling and not their own iron wills to prove themselves. Jyn watched the jab-straights and twisting push-ups with an impassive, assessive eye. She only broke her neutral facade to glare at anyone who fell short in the routine.

She paired recruits up with opponents that would render more disadvantage in terms of height and build, stonily explaining to anyone who dared to ask that in the real world, you didn't get to pick your opponent. Humans and nonhumans who wouldn't understand the others' anatomy. Older recruits with rookies. There were nine matches happening in the room, even if the space provided wasn't sufficient and there were often blunders and mishaps. Anybody with a year's worth of sparring practice would know how to manage, but most of the people in training today hadn't been around before Hoth. New additions carefully screened and picked off various worlds, because the rebellion needed to raise its numbers in preparation for a decisive point in the war. 

When that point came, Jyn- with a little help from Dameron, who didn't have a lot going on with his wife being on a supply-run- had to ensure they'd last on the field. At least long enough to make a worthwhile sacrifice.

So today she was merciless, rewarded insubordination with more exercise, told recruits to step away from their assigned partners so she could take them instead. The Alliance was running on limited resources, so she refrained from sending anyone to medbay, but still hurt them enough for the bruises to last days. Even Kes showed sympathy after some point; Jyn only promised to stop once three punches had been landed on her.

The session paused at what passed for midday, giving the recruits an hour to breathe, before starting again to last until night. Eventually the room cleared out, and Kes found out his wife had returned, leaving Jyn with her own thoughts and a punching bag. 

She didn't _think_ as she laid blow after blow on the leathery sack, worn by years of use and Hoth's weather. Threw tight-fisted punches. Aimed for the sides and kicked. She was tired after the day's labour, but time alone to punch something was a privilege that she was going to make use of. 

She objectively did _not_ think of the Empire. She did not think about the war, or wielding a blaster and running out onto the field. She didn't think of Hoth or Endor, and most certainly did _not_ think of Cassian. 

Several loud thuds, thumps. The sound of rushing air as her foot connected with the bag. Her own rapid breaths. 

Sweat beaded on her brow and didn't stick for long, rolling down drenched skin at a rate. Every part of her body hurt, but she'd never felt as alive as in these moments, using her fists and feet to _fight._ She'd be terribly sore by the end of the night. It would feel brilliant. 

Jyn was slowing and coming to the warm-down stage of her exercise when she felt more than noticed a presence by the door. The doors on Home I could open soundlessly, and she hadn't locked it. She kept right at her activity. If it was Kes, he'd collect whatever he'd left behind and leave without disturbing. If it was one of the recruits, they'd scurry off soon. If it was Bodhi, he would wait it out. 

She was panting more heavily than she ever remembered by the time her body couldn't take any more, and she let her arms loosen by her sides when she caught the flailing bag and turned.

Cassian looked up to meet her eyes, only to immediately look away and clear his throat.

"Do you have a moment?"

She couldn't get her chest to stop heaving with each laboured breath, so she simply nodded once. Let go of the bag and walked to the other corner of the room, where there was a bar. 

"Take your time," said Cassian casually, switching on a datapad in his hands. He leaned back more accomodatingly on the wall, keeping his eyes trained on the screen and not in her direction.

She took her time. 

Her muscles ached and protested with each stretch, but she was nothing if not flexible, so she could work through the exhaustion to get it done. She couldn't help slipping a glance or two at her visitor, though.

It was entirely possible he'd been standing there long before she'd seen him. Even now she could tell that whatever he was reading in his hands didn't have his undivided attention, and he was being polite enough not to stare at the expanse of skin her stretches revealed. 

She grabbed a towel off the bar and wiped her face with it, making her way forward. 

He turned the datapad over, looking at her instead. She could tell that, for a single second, he made an observation. 

Her skin would've been flushed red, or at least a very dark pink, sweat making it slick and glistening. Her breathing had become less erratic, but her chest still rose and fell a little with the effort. Her muscles were sore and prominent. 

If the image was too much for Cassian Andor to handle, it didn't show. 

"Have you eaten?" he asked, throwing her off slightly. 

Jyn blinked, but it was more about the sweat still in her eyes than surprise, and shook her head. "No."

He shifted his weight onto his other leg, but his expression remained casual. Not friendly, not how it usually was- but- good enough. 

"Do you want to?"

She considered regarding him with a raised eyebrow, but he can't have approached her after all this time today to ask if she was hungry.

"Yes."

Cassian nodded, and turned on his heel, but looked over his shoulder and for several awkward moments seemed to be contemplating his next move. 

"Walk with me?" he asked finally. 

She did, without speaking a word.

He led them through the sterile white corridors of Home I, a Major with his second-in-command following stoically at his heels. Or was it partner? On the field, they were equals. But the records listed him as her superior, and that was what everyone who didn't know them probably thought, it was how they looked to the unobservant eye- although not to anyone who'd been in the rebellion long enough, either. 

There were throngs of rebels headed in the opposite direction, to the night meal- and it took Jyn a few seconds ro register that they weren't headed the same way. She almost asked- but tamped down the urge just in time and decided to simply see where this was going. Let the puzzle figure itself out. 

Cassian took two or three turns, the last one down a corridor she'd never gone through before, until they stopped at a stark white door that would've blended with the walls were it not for a sign that read _AUTHORISED PERSONNEL ONLY_. There was a lock with- _you've got to be kidding me_ \- white keys that had thin grey numbers.

Cassian reached for the lock, but hesitated. 

Now she really did raise an eyebrow at him. He turned around to face her. 

"Are you okay with this?"

Her eyebrow went up a notch. "With what?"

Cassian gestured at the locked door. "I thought we should talk. I mean, we don't have to. You don't have to say yes. I just want to fix whatever...I want to explain myself."

She felt her stance unconsciously relax, felt her face soften. He wanted to fix this. It shouldn't have surprised her, but she was still relieved that he wanted to salvage their friendship.

"I think I'm the one who needs to explain myself," she said quietly. He only looked at her, for a second, before shaking his head and entering in a code to open the door. 

He let her in before him, and her breath caught. 

Stars. Not the same expressionless picture of white dots on black that they'd caught glimpses of from the small viewports of Home I, but _stars,_ real and bright and big. The viewport that greeted her covered the entirety of a wall, immersing her in the picture, drawing her in...and there was more, too, in the form of a distant nebula that bled a brilliant shade of red into the star-stained darkness, and she had never been so awed by the galaxy's free space as she was now.

When she finally did blink and assess the rest of the sorroundings, she realized that the room was a lounge of sorts, and a tastefully decorated one at that. There were five different sets of in-built tables with plush, beige-coloured seats that either stood by themselves, cube-shaped, or connected to another, framing the tables, crescent-shaped. The other three walls were the usual sterile white of the rest of the ship, except each supported a painting of various blue hues. 

_Mon Cala,_ she realized belatedly. 

The table closest to the viewport held two trays, the only thing about this room that struck her as familiar. Food from the mess. 

"It's a lounge for those in the higher ranks," explained Cassian, while they walked to the table that had been set. She didn't know what to say. "But it doesn't get used so often these days. You can put in a request to sort of...book it."

Jyn nodded dumbly. Her gaze kept drifting to the viewport and back again to his face. 

She sat behind the table with the glass to her right, and he took the opposite end. There was a moment of quiet. 

Cassian was looking at her like he was waiting for her to say something, and she realized she hadn't said at word since they walked in.

"It's....nice."

His lips pulled back only a fraction, not even a half smile, before it was gone again. But he didn't look hostile, just...casual. Polite. Like this was a normal discussion and with a person he didn't know too well, but was neverthless willing to associate loosely. 

"Quiet, too," he agreed. 

And then she got it. Her assessment was wrong- he was not viewing this situation with cool nothingness. He wasn't just being tokenly _polite,_ or treating this conversation as a professional affair. 

If Cassian had wanted to talk to her on a professional level, he would've done it at the training room, or sought her out in one of the corridors. If he'd wanted to talk on a personal level, he would've just done it at the night meal, with Bodhi present or not. _This_ was not normal. Not something that had happened before. Chances are he wanted to have a conversation the likes of which they hadn't ever had before.

But why not her quarters, or his, or the empty training room? Why go this length?

"Are you okay with this?"

Jyn snapped back to the present with the note of doubt and concern in his voice.

He was looking at her with his eyes. _Really_ looking, with those warm, ernest brown eyes of his. 

She managed a smile that may have looked off-kilter.

"Yeah. Yeah, it's okay. Um. Why is...what do you want to talk about?"

Cassian sighed, his shoulders dropping a little. His mask of indifference- of pretense- was gone now, and he looked...tired. Tired and apologetic. Guilty, even. 

She felt a frown coming on. He wasn't supposed to feel guilty _or_ apologetic. 

"This," said Cassian. He paused. "Us."

"Us," Jyn echoed, not fully registering the words. 

He averted his eyes. "If you want...if you want there to be an us. If you don't, you don't have to- we don't have to talk about it."

Jyn felt her heartbeat pick up. _Kriff._

It was too soon. They were going somewhere she didn't want to name, and it was...he was...

How could she answer a question like that?

Cassian seemed to understand. "It's okay," he said, so casually that if she hadn't known him she would've really believed he'd grown unconcerned. He gestured at her untouched tray. "You said you were hungry."

She shook her head too fast. 

"Cassian, wait."

He regarded her with what looked like mild curiosity, but she could tell his nerves were scrambled.

She struggled for words. "We need to talk. About Endor. And last night."

"I don't want to make things strange between us," said Cassian, and she could tell it was honesty. "If you don't feel the same way, we can just...go back to how it was. Before. If you'll forgive me and forget this ever happened?"

Jyn blinked. Her heart was thumping even more rapidly in her chest now, somehow, set off by a combination of a very few words. "How do you....feel?"

She didn't want to hear it. But she had to. Somehow she felt she had to. 

Cassian took in a breath, with almost utmost subtlety. He had expected the question.

"Jyn, last night when you...when it happened, you said it was because you were angry. Not thinking straight, just wanted an outlet to express it."

She listened to his words and her own heartbeat in her ears.

"I didn't like that explanation. It was just...not what I was hoping to hear, and if I acted like a karking nerfherder in the morning today, that was why," he laughed self-deprecatingly. "I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that."

Jyn didn't know how she managed to find her voice. "What were you hoping to hear?"

Again, he smiled in a self-deprecating manner, and she didn't miss the embarrassed flush to his cheeks. But it was mostly apology and guilt that came from him. "That you did it because it was me. That...when there was bad news, you wanted me there with you. I wanted it to be because you come to me if you ever needed comfort, or reassurance, or...." He broke off, shaking his head. "It was stupid. I'm sorry, Jyn. It was selfish and stupid of me to want that."

She could only stare, several conflicting emotions in her head, her thought processes a mess. It was hurting him to say this. Breaking him, really. Cassian Andor didn't let people have parts of him. Yet for her he had lowered every in-built defense and spoken a devastatingly honest, unbridled truth.

_If you don't feel the same way._

He was in deep. Very deep. 

She couldn't run away from this. Even if she summoned up her stength and did, it would always weigh heavily on her conscience. That she'd left the one person who'd welcomed her home. That she'd broken Cassian.

There was no way she could answer him without saying the wrong thing, and fucking it up entirely. 

When her voice finally did come, it sounded choked.

"I'm sorry."

He didn't look like he hadn't anticipated it. 

She reached across the table, from around her untouched tray, to lightly take his wrist. His expression was calm, but she could feel his pulse thrumming under the pads of her fingers.

"Don't be," he said, with so much of resigned understanding that she felt tears prick at her eyes. 

She leaned across the table and closed the gap between them, and it was nothing like the previous night. 

Cassian kissed her like it would be the last time he did it, with acceptance and understanding and reverence that made her digits shake and her lips tremble. In turn she kissed him like she wanted to keep this memory with her forever, and she did, she really did. But it would be a painful memory. 

She sighed into his mouth and he bit into her bottom lip, taking care to be gentle. She tilted her head so he could deepen the kiss.

But Cassian didn't probe her mouth with his tongue, and instead pulled away, holding the sides of her face. He had a sad half-smile on his lips.

"Thank you," he breathed. "For telling me."

Her throat felt parched. "Yeah. I...this doesn't change anything, Cassian. We're still a team, you know. Partners."

He drew back, but their hands were still joined.

"Partners," he agreed. 


End file.
